


– The War Room –

by cyncitymojo



Series: Sexperimentation Sans Morality [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bunker Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:25:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyncitymojo/pseuds/cyncitymojo
Summary: Just a few small things that popped into my mind...





	– The War Room –

– The War Room – 

They stared each other down across the great expanse of the war room, over the gigantic map table as Dean sauntered down the stairs. He looked cocky, like he had done a month’s worth of work in the few days he'd been gone. He also beheld his brother with a distinctive heat in his now prasine eyes. He never showed the demonic black to Sam until he was completely lost in his lust, with either his younger brother balls deep in his ass or throat.

Sam just hungrily watched him approach, with a smirk on his lips and a glint in his viridian gaze. He'd been anticipating his older brother's return from the moment he blinked out to follow Crowley on a "massive" demon hunt. Sam logically could rationalize Dean’s outings to slake his bloodlust but refrained from demon hunts himself due to his lack of morality concerning his old vice, demon blood. He was soulless, after all. Probably not a good mix.

He knew if even his demonic elder would not allow him to fall off the wagon, then that shit was off limits. Even when it now pulsed through Dean’s very veins.

Dean closed in on Sam until he was forced to look up into his cold, yet lustful glower. He grabbed the soulless sasquatch by his thick muscled neck and yanked him down to a rough, sloppy kiss. It was nerve endings of lips and tongues, pure erogenous zone exploitation. It was full of the amped desire that he had built up from torturing and killing things that go bump in the night. Killing, especially demons, was an unbelievably arousing experience. He must have had a very productive time.

Sam, not to be outdone, grabbed Dean by his dark, golden locks and pulled his head back, earning a satisfying hiss of combined pain and pleasure. He appreciated the fact that Dean was much less strict about his militant coif because he could really get his slender fingers gripped in there. Dean growled, rumbling from deep within his stubbled throat as Sam bit and sucked marks into his surprisingly clean tasting skin. Dean was meticulous about not even having a trace of demonic blood on him.

They were slow and methodical as they stripped each other bare, wrestling for dominance although each knew it was not about whom was in charge. Neither man had a mission of ego, control, or emotion; all of that purely human bullshit was gone from them. They were here to relieve each other in the ways they both physically needed. Sam spread Dean across the strategic map of the world on the huge table and mapped out every inch of topography that his freckles created. He claimed territory he’s known for years, and yet it’s exhilarated him every time.

Dean felt his sadistic fire receding, but the embers never really die. The executions he relished earlier stoked the flames while quenching the thirst for blood and terror. Sam, no matter the version, was the only one who could satisfy the burn with a fire of his own. His thorough workings of Dean’s body were one part medical, and one part taking back everything the Mark possessed when it thirsted. Dean kept Sam’s obsessive compulsion just short of sated when he flipped their positions on the table and stared him down with obsidian eyes, along with various, scattered teeth marks and hickeys in the shape of his brother’s sinful mouth.

The demon climbed Sam like a fallen tree and it gave him a trill to see Dean marked in such a thorough way. If only he could have finished what he was doing, but big brother was in a bit of a hurry. He rushed to impale himself through with nothing but Sam and the natural arousal that had pulsed forth with being manhandled onto his back. Sam grunted his concern, but then Dean’s head was thrown back and he howled in sheer pleasure and satisfaction. It did not take a genius to figure out why he did this each and every time. 

He bent down and took his turn biting Sam right where their matched warding tattoos used to be. It earned Dean the first words from Sam that evening, “Mph! Fuck, Dean!”

In lieu of riding out his flames of demonic passion on top of his more than willing moose, Dean flipped them again, incensed by the expansive real estate of the War Room table. He and Sam would both have some bruises and abrasions from the friction of sliding on the table top. It made the sentimentality of their actions a bit easier for their literal minds to admit to feeling.

Dean spread his bowed legs as far as he could in a silent command for Sam to pound into him the way he knew Dean wanted. He wanted the extra bit of burn and friction that he long ago became addicted to in the first few thrusts from Sam’s narrow, strong hips. He wanted the larger male looming over him with his thick, muscular intimidation. He wanted, irrationally, to feel the freedom of letting go of his inhuman strength for those moments between them.

“For the sake of all that is unholy, could you two kinky bastards not wait until I received my progress report?!”

Leave it to Crowley to have perfect timing. Sam, having no shame whatsoever, and Dean, having no inhibitions about voyeurism, merely slowed their pace to simultaneously send the King of Hell a cocky smirk and a death glare.

“Crowley, you knew damn well before you even arrived what was going on here, you just wanted to watch. The demons you sent me after ain’t showing their ugly faces again cuz I ripped them off! Any further questions?”

“Well, the Brothers Winchester are nothing if not entertaining…” With that, he vanished.

Dean sank his nails into the firm meat of Sam’s ass to tell him to speed back up because he certainly was not going to beg for it. Sam redirected his fast, jarring thrusts to aim directly for Dean’s prostate which then earned him quite a bit of dirty verbal communication until Dean yelled, releasing his frustration, allowing the bright verdant in his eyes to surface. Sam allowed himself to then be lost in the pulsating squeeze of his brother’s warmth as he roared his climax just moments later.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come, but slow to update.


End file.
